


Teller of Tales

by Ys Aster (asterCrash)



Category: Kill Six Billion Demons (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, intentionally confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/Ys%20Aster
Summary: I will tell you the story as it was recounted to me, and in doing so tell of how it was recounted, in the hope that you shall tell it again to a friend, and the endless recursive nature of storytelling should make true that first great declaration of YISUN:“Let there be no genesis, for beginnings are false and I am a consummate liar.”---Also known as the time Allison got a hold of Cio's self insert smut





	

There came a time where an ominous quiet descended on Yisun’s speaking house, for Aesma had just invented tequila and there was great mischief afoot. Of the gods that remained, it was I, Ys Aster, who spoke up, seeking to ease the worry of those gods whose brows were furrowed with concern for the revelry that even now was building, and the suffering of those gods cursed with empathic foresight, who were already feeling the future hangovers of those gods cursed with an affection for Aesma and her ideas.  
I was but a meek god then, yet still even I received the attention of our great father-mother in turn, and was grateful for such. I asked,

“Oh Yisun, who is a lover of lies and a master of division, will you tell us a tale of telling tales this afternoon?”

Yisun smiled in the fifty-seventh way, for their daughter was of a nature to not think through her requests before voicing them, but heard the murmur of assent from those gods not favoured enough in Aesma’s opinion to have been invited to the great mistake she was currently making. They spoke but a simple recursive tale, and it passed the time until Aesma arrived to tip the speaking house on its side. The story they spoke read thus:

 

* * *

 

 

“What,” spoke the Rising King, “the fuck.”

A great many creatures in the universe can squawk, but none can squawk exactly the Rising King’s companion did.

 

* * *

 

I should note that Yisun, in their love of lies and with an irreverence for the natural flow of time, would sometimes, when they were of a want to do so, recount stories of events not yet passed and maybe never to pass in the past tense. Just to keep us all on our toes.

 

* * *

 

 

_Editor’s note: it is well recorded how Ys Aster affected a poor imitation of Yisun’s grand lies and as such it cannot be verified whether the above statement is or ever was true. Further debate as to whether Ys Aster was indeed a god, or ever truly existed at all will be tabled for another volume._

 

* * *

 

 

But as I was saying,

 

* * *

 

 

“What,” spoke the Rising King, “the fuck.”

  
“That’s not belonging of tha!” squawked the king’s companion, who was known as Cio then.

The Rising King, who was called Alice but known as Allison, who was still only feared in the way one fears an incontinent elephant, feared for what she might do not through intention, but through accident, retracted the book she held out of reach of the shorter devil, who leapt and clawed at the air, who reached with all her might and who generally made a little shit of herself.

“It’s got my name on it,” said Allison, holding fast even as Cio attempted to climb her to get the book back into her arms.

“Counts not if tha name is written on it with all the ink in creation!” Cio scrabbled her way onto Allison’s shoulders, only to give out a great cry as the pair fell backwards onto Allison’s bed. If any had thought she was making a great fuss before, she made a greater fuss on realising she was now trapped underneath the human.

“’Her azure orbs glistened wetly,’” Allison quoted, and Cio set about seeing if she couldn’t throw even more of a tantrum than she was currently. “’As her moist lips parted and she leaned in close to…’”

“Shutter tha flaphole and put that downways THA SCUPPERSOME-“

“I thought you said this was a supposed to be a ‘chronicle of tha journey’, but I would have _remembered_ if something like this happened,” Allison flicked through the pages idly, ignoring the thrashing beneath her, perusing forward till the ink ran out and the pages grew blank and white.  
Tiring, Cio went limp under the indignity of her imprisonment, though the occasional thrash of her tail provided some signs of life.

“It’s… it’s a _supplement_. Tha knows, histories get dull, I just livenly it up with some… extrasome tales.” She shrank further into the bed, pulling back despite still having a whole woman on top of her.

“Well it’s kind of shit,” replied Allison, with all the tact she’d demonstrated so far on her journey.

“As if tha could do better!”

“Bet I could,” said the Heir to all creation, summoning a pen from non-existence with the white hot power of WANT-

 

* * *

 

At this point in the tale one of Yisun’s children, who was less wise than Hansa but more sensible than Aesma asked,

“Wait, she couldn’t do that yet, could she?”

But as it was of no relevance to the story, Yisun continued as if none had spoken at all.

 

* * *

 

“’The maiden quivered with joy at the touch of the devil’s thumb,’ isn’t that so much better?” Spoke the rising king to her captive friend.

“No! The characterisation’s all wrongly!” Shouted Cio, who had managed to at least wriggle far enough to see the glide of the white wanting pen as it corrected all her hard work. Allison’s handwriting was atrocious, but it made quick work of her own neat script.

“It’s my self-insert and I can write her the way I want, now are you going to help or are you going to keep complaining?”

But Cio answered only with snarling.

At this point the 82nd incarnation of the liquid angel White Chain Born In Emptiness Returns To Subdue Evil entered the room, and seeing that she had interrupted a moment, quickly closed the door.

 

* * *

 

_Editor’s note: Many scholars and indeed many angels have observed that angels have no gender and are referred to exclusively with male pronouns, and have asserted that this indicates Ys Aster’s tale was likely a complete fabrication. Despite this, it is the opinion of this editor that this should not be taken as proof one way or the other, as the concept of an angel born living a lie of Self and finding the truth only through self-recreation is a concept repeated in other tales told by YISUN of the king to come._

 

* * *

 

“Why don’t you write in the Black Tongue?” said Allison, erasing another line of precious fanfiction with a wave of her pen.

“Because it’s the Black Tongue, fopwit! I don’t blatherly lick the pages now do I?”

 _Allison stroked the devil’s tail, watching as she shuddered in response_ -

“Does tha have as smallsome knowing of anatomy as tha does of writing? Tails don’t work like that!”

 

* * *

 

“How do their tails work, though?” Interrupted a servant, who was promptly eaten by a god of impatient hunger, but not so promptly as to prevent prompting a god from taking up the question, and several other gods from interjecting. Eventually, there broke out such a grand argument as to what a tail was for, what constituted a tail and whether tails existed at all, that it attracted the attention of Aesma’s party, who came to investigate and, on finding the conversation to be frightfully dull, proceeded to tip the speaking house on its side.

 

* * *

 

 _Editor’s note: this discussion on demon tails has not been recorded, however further reading may be found in:_ Daemonica Extensus – The Questions Drulle Didn’t Answer.

 

* * *

 

In all of the commotion, and argument and uninvited revelry, many gods did not listen as Yisun continued to finish their tale:

 

* * *

 

“I’ll show tha what a tail is for,” spoke Cio, at last winning free from underneath the rising king, to find herself a place astride her. “If that’s what tha is after?”

“Though you’d never ask.”

 

* * *

 

And so it was told to me by Yisun, as it was told to Cio by Allison and to Allison by Cio. As I shall tell it to an angel, and as that angel shall relate to a man who will tell it to a devil, who will relate it to an angel, and at that point a great fight will break out and the whole thing will have to be written down for posterity’s sake. And that text shall be lost to time and scholars shall debate its veracity, and all of creation shall be none the wiser as to whether the events related therein truly transpired or indeed whether any events ever have transpired or whether this whole mess was a waste of time that we’ll never get back. But in all the arguing and scuffling and sultry stories and tequila, none shall be able to say if the story begins with myself, who is relating it, Yisun, who told the story first, Allison, who wrote the story she was reading, Cio, who wrote the story that was read, or you the reader, who allowed this whole mess to go on one step further.

And that’s just the way dear father-mother, YISUN who is the great deceiver and a passable teller of tales, would have wanted it.

**Author's Note:**

> There comes a time in every writer's life where she needs to tell a story about a story being told about the time a story was told about a couple who were telling a story to each other.


End file.
